


Of Rabbits

by DVwrites



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Gen, Rabbits, forgive me for any incorrectness or bastardisation of viking practice, if that bothers you!, skinning animals, viking practices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DVwrites/pseuds/DVwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This animal had served me once, priest. It fed me.” He began, teeth clenched as Athelstan stood, watching him in the dim light of the cabin area that they were in as Ragnar set out to prepare. “It is small and frail and weak, and it served me and my family well. If it attacked another animal to protect me – a hound – then it would not be a hound itself. It will always be a rabbit.”</p><p>Athelstan said nothing, and didn’t even move as Ragnar tossed the rabbit down onto the wooden table again, harder than before, and directed his firm, and almost disgusted and angry glare down at it.</p><p>“And now it is a dead rabbit.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Rabbits

When Ragnar had pitched the flames to his torch and kindled the fire alive, they’d protested.

When they’d protested with shouts, or as they’d done when their chieftain had made his intentions very clear, with murmurs and urgings to the contrary, Ragnar made sure that they knew that their protestations went unheard and fell on his deaf, unyielding ears.

And Lagertha had shown him nothing but silent support; where he needed comfort, she used her body to give him warmth and she touched his larger, calloused hands when she felt he needed it, but outwardly to everyone else gave the same steely rebuttal of someone who agreed wholeheartedly with her husband’s choice, and his right to do it.

And Ragnar had been quiet.

It was a few days preparation, at most, and Bjorn made little comment, save for what he could say to his mother in passing about what he thought of the whole thing. He hunted rabbits when instructed to, and gathered Athelstan’s things for him when asked. He tied them together with string.

They realised that the priest possessed very little; a testament to his religion, surely. Ragnar almost smiled at it.

And by his side during the entire preparation, as always, was Athelstan – no longer a priest, but a free man by every right. A good man, a free man, and now a warrior. He had long since earned Ragnar’s respect and had no need of these menial chores by Ragnar’s side as he prepared for the pyre.

“I found these plants, will they burn?”

“There is nothing that will not burn, if it is still in this world, priest,” Countered Ragnar as his intense gaze lingered over the administrations of his hands, as they pulled the pelt of the rabbit from its long since departed carcass. He didn’t have to look up to see Athelstan wince, though it was softer and less disturbed than it would have been had it have been a moment shared between them months ago.

At this, Ragnar lifted the next dead and unskinned rabbit by its hind legs and held it up to Athelstan, at eye level, meeting his gaze.

“Will you say a prayer for it?” And the corners of his lips twitched.

Athelstan looked at it for a moment, before choosing to meet what was once his Viking master’s gaze, slight frown ever present on his lips.

“No,”

“Why not? It is dead, and it will pass on, why is this creature any different in your god’s eyes?”

And Athelstan smiled, just a little, shaking his head as if he was wondering how he’d ever thought that Ragnar would let the debate of his previous religion pass. Still curious, he surmised.

“It isn’t,”

“It isn’t? Then say a prayer. Go on,”

The priest shook his head, but said nothing, and Ragnar’s jaw clenched. His grip on the rabbit tightened and he put it further to Athelstan’s face.

“This animal has served me once, priest. It fed me.” He began, teeth clenched as Athelstan stood, watching him in the dim light of the cabin area that they were in as Ragnar set out to prepare. “It is small and frail and weak, and it served me and my family well. If it attacked another animal to protect me – a hound – then it would not be a hound itself. It will always be a rabbit.”

Athelstan said nothing, and didn’t even move as Ragnar tossed the rabbit down onto the wooden table again, harder than before, and directed his firm, and almost disgusted and angry glare down at it.

“And now it is a  _dead_ rabbit.”

And that night, when Athelstan had gone, Lagertha ran her fingers over his broad shoulders and kissed at the expanse of skin showing at his neck.

“Are you sure about this, my love?” She asked, and brought him down to the furs of their bedding, and he didn’t answer. He kissed her temple, and they fell asleep in the quiet of the night.

The next morning, Athelstan wasn’t there, and Ragnar hadn’t expected him to be.

As he lit the fire, others protested.

As he brought the torch to the pyre, where objects had been placed, bound by string, and where the pelts of the rabbits had been laid, they continued to shout and murmur.

‘Slavery is not a worthy trade!’ they said, ‘he is not of our gods!’, ‘bury him!’, and Ragnar heard none of it.

One man complained that fighting off an invasion against their chief, that dying in that kind of minute battle whilst still not entirely a free man was not warrior like – that he gates of Valhalla were barred to him, no matter how Ragnar wished it. And Ragnar heard none of it.

As he brought the torch down, he looked to Athelstan’s face, and continued to look as the fire curled around him and took up the black book and objects and the rosary around his neck burnt up to ash. And Ragnar thought back on everything he’d ever known about rabbits, and that discussion with the illusion of Athelstan, and honoured his body with the death of a Viking.

And Ragnar re-considered all he had ever known of rabbits. 

**Author's Note:**

> Possible chapters may be added, as preludes to this! But it works well as a metaphorical oneshot, but we'll see! Thank you for reading and forgive me for any possible bastardisation of Viking culture, I am an idiot! Please enjoy! <3


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